


Silence

by CriticsCubby



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 11:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5826214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CriticsCubby/pseuds/CriticsCubby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-ep 10x2, spoilers (obviously). He was just sitting there at their kitchen table, looking at a picture of a son he barely knew, with the imagined sounds of their laughter somehow filling the silent room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I’ve ever gotten to write a “post-ep fic” for this show and I’m sort of emotional about it ::sniff::

He was just sitting there at their kitchen table, looking at a picture of a son he barely knew, with the imagined sounds of their laughter somehow filling the silent room. Seeing himself and William in his mind’s eye wasn’t something he allowed himself to do often, but today it could not be helped. This imagined life held such hope, such love, such pain. He couldn’t help but wonder if it would have been worth the risk. 

Mulder knew he’d have Scully’s eyes. He might have only held William briefly, but even in those precious few moments, he could see her intellect, her spunk, looking back at him. The hair, he just figured any son of his would likely have to deal with his floppy-hair-genes. 

Closing his eyes again, he pictured a world where he hadn’t been sucked so thoroughly into the darkness, a world where the three of them could stroll down the driveway bathed in sunlight. Scully’s red hair reflecting the soft rays of the setting sun, a young William holding each of their hands, laughing about a joke he’d heard at school. His heart ached for this place that he knew could only exist in his mind. 

His phone vibrated, cutting the quiet and jolting him out of this dream world. He reached for it blindly, sliding to accept the call without needing to see who it was from. He didn’t need to see in order to know. 

“Mulder, it’s me.” Just three words, and yet practically a thesaurus of synonyms for sadness. 

“I didn’t know what to say.” His voice was strained, he knew he didn’t have to explain what he was talking about. 

“I know, Mulder. That’s why I called.” He could hear her worry, she always worried.

“Scully, I know there wasn’t anything we could do differently. It’s not that I really think we made a mistake; I know that we did what we had to do in order to keep him safe. And yet…”

“I don’t think there will ever be a time when we don’t imagine what our lives might have been like. I think about it every day.” He heard her voice catch and his heart broke a little more. 

He set down the picture he’d been clutching, bringing his hand to rub his tired eyes. 

“Sometimes I think about what he’d have been like as a boy. Smart, of course.” She could almost see the pained smile on his face as he spoke. 

“Mulder,” she interrupted, hoping he wouldn’t see it as a dismissal, “can we talk about this? In person?” 

He thought for a moment, taking his hand away from his eyes and looking down at the little baby crawling towards the world in the photo. He knew they should talk about this; he knew they should have never _stopped_ talking, about this or about anything else.

“Where are you?” He asked, instead of answering. 

“I’m...I’m at the end of the driveway.” 

He couldn’t help but chuckle lightly. Of course she had come. He kept pushing her away and she kept coming. Today, he’d let her in. 

“I’ll come open the gate.” He hung up before she could reply, flipping on the porch lights as he walked out into the dusky air. 

\--------

They were sitting on the couch, each with a mug clutched in their hands. To an outsider, they likely looked like your typical suburban married couple after a long day at the office. Mulder’s feet were propped on the coffee table, Scully’s bare and tucked under herself. They were close enough to touch, but far enough apart for effort to be required to close the gap. 

Staring off into the darkness of the rest of the house, Mulder started. 

“I always picture him with your eyes.” He said, looking over at her. 

“Well, there really is no way to know,” typical Scully, science prevailing even in her daydreams, “babies’ eyes change color quite often.” She took a sip of her tea, a sad smile forming on her lips. “Though, I’ll admit that I usually imagine the same.” 

“What else, Scully?” He pulled his feet off the coffee table, crossing one over his lap, shifting so he was facing her more fully. 

“I think he probably has your hair…” She glanced at his unruly locks before settling her eyes back on his. 

“I guess that’s better than having Skinner’s…” An old joke, but not a wasted one. Scully laughed and he remembered how much he loved that sound. 

“I hope he has your giggle.” He offered, most sincerely. 

“And I hope he has your heart.” She reached over, placing her hand on his arm. 

“I’m glad you came, Scully.” He set his coffee mug down and took her hand in both of his. He knew this wasn’t the end of this conversation, and he knew this wouldn’t change everything. But this was a start. 

They sat there, going back and forth over their different versions of their lives with William for a while longer. Scully not believing that Mulder had actually imagined himself giving _the talk_ with their son and Mulder offended that Scully had blamed him for teaching their son the f-word when they both knew it was more likely to come from her. 

There was an understanding that even if all they had of their lives with William was a few minutes in reality, there would always be this alternate world they could visit if they needed to. A world where they created a life and then actually got to share in it. And _that_ was worth the risk.


End file.
